


Uncharted Shores

by darthmelyanna, miera



Series: stargate_ren [4]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Renaissance, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-02
Updated: 2006-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-06 20:13:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12825210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darthmelyanna/pseuds/darthmelyanna, https://archiveofourown.org/users/miera/pseuds/miera
Summary: As winter looms and serious illness strikes Athos, Elizabeth, Laura, and Kate find themselves in new and awkward situations with the men around them - some welcome and some not.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The authors merrily offer this to our readers - pay no attention to the obvious fact that we've been ripping our hair out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The authors merrily offer this to our readers - pay no attention to the obvious fact that we've been ripping our hair out.

John had not thought his years of traveling had made him soft, but he had forgotten the feeling of working his body all day, every day. As he stood in the shadows of the trees, he felt the sore muscles of his back and legs protesting. Still, the pain was much lessened from what it had been a month ago. He had been assisting the Athosians with completing their harvest for some weeks, bringing back many memories of his childhood, running through the fields with his brothers and gathering the flocks and the crops before the winter.

He pushed the thought away and moved slightly to the left, that he would have an unobstructed view of the water’s edge.

The harvest was safely in, so John had insisted on taking his place in the nightly watches near the shore. Though Wraith activity declined in winter, there was not yet enough ice to block their ships from landing, and the Athosians maintained their vigilance.

Looking out at the vast expanse of the sea, moving eternally under the moonlight, John did not want to contemplate how cold it would have to get to freeze the waters solid. He tucked his hands more deeply under his vest. The year was rapidly approaching its end, and the weather turned sharper with each day. Darkness came so early that he had complained to Lady Teyla that there seemed hardly a point in rising from bed in the morning.

Remembering Teyla’s comment on that score, John felt his cheeks heating. The Countess of Athos, like many of the women in Atalan, had no qualms about teasing a man until he wished the earth to open up and swallow him, and they held little back for the sake of propriety.

That thought led him to memories of Atalan’s young queen, and John’s mood darkened. He had been away from the palace of Atlantis for more than a month. The moon had been nearly full when he had been dismissed from the queen’s presence.

Dismissed for concealing his Caldoran heritage from the young sovereign. Ordered out of her sight when he had confessed his deception.

The expression of hurt on her face still haunted him.

He’d had no word from anyone in Atlantis for over a month. Teyla had passed him some information regarding the reactions of the college of lords after news of his birthplace had come out, but she rarely spoke of the queen herself. He was grateful that Teyla had made no attempt to draw him out or ask questions about his past, so John did not broach the subject himself.

He knew too little of Elizabeth to know if her fury with him had abated. His own temper at being blamed so heavily had subsided, though he still felt a lingering resentment toward Jonas Quinn. John had pieced together over the last weeks that Quinn had gone to Lady Katherine, one of Elizabeth’s closest advisors, and uncovered something of John’s history. Kate had been the one to warn John to disclose the truth to the queen himself before someone else did the task for him.

Though he was convinced that there was little he could have done to avoid the complicated situation they had found themselves in, he found himself going over his actions again and again, because he knew he had caused Elizabeth grief. It was more than the difficulties his presence had caused her with the college of lords, or the almost-certain objections from Caldora over him serving the queen of a different realm.

He had left things unsaid. He had not explained who his father was, that he had been born into a noble family, or what had befallen him back home. She likely knew he had been exiled, but not why. He longed to defend himself, lay before her the reasons. But what if she had made up her mind already about the sort of man he was? What if she had no desire to listen to his explanations now?

He feared deeply that he’d lost Elizabeth’s trust irrevocably, and that thought more than any other cut at him. He’d only known her for a short time, but the idea of living the rest of his days as nothing more than a stranger to her was intolerable.

That was the reason he had voiced few complaints over these recent weeks of hard labor in the fields and orchards. He was so tired at the end of the days that he fell gratefully into a deep sleep almost immediately.

There was a certain stark beauty to the land, even in this cold season. The chill air was already colder than what he had grown up with, but he felt it invigorating his blood. Caldora had seasons the same as Atalan, of course, but John had not seen forests of such color anywhere else. Even now, with the leaves gone from the trees, he found something pleasing about the bareness of the woods.

He was looking up at the moon, hidden behind a web of lines formed by the tree branches above, when Teyla appeared at his side.

John jumped. He had as yet not mastered the Athosian ability to move through even a forest carpeted by dead, crunching leaves silently, and Teyla seemed to get great enjoyment out of startling him.

“I do not believe there will be an attack tonight,” she said quietly. Despite her words, her eyes scanned the shore slowly, missing no detail.

“Is that another one of my lady’s feelings?” John asked, still irritated at her sneaking up on him.

“Yes,” she said neutrally. Teyla’s ability to guess when the Wraith would appear was almost preternatural in its accuracy, and John had learned to trust her instincts. A raiding party had appeared two weeks prior, intent on stealing the stored fruits of the Athosian’s hard labor. Three people had died, but the Wraith had been beaten off.

Teyla glanced up at him. “And there will be no fog tonight, thanks to the frost. The morning will be another matter.” He turned and followed her back towards the village. The countess had something other than the Wraith on her mind. “Are you feeling well?”

“Yes, my lady,” John responded, surprised.

Teyla frowned. “A number of people in the village are ill. Charin and the other healers are having difficulty providing any comfort.”

Now that he considered it, John realized he’d heard a number of people coughing heavily the past two days or so. “Is it not normal in the winter months for sickness to arrive?”

“Yes, but it is still before Solstice,” Teyla said. “And this illness is far worse than mere headaches and runny noses.”

He opened his mouth and then stopped himself. Teyla was more than capable of reaching the conclusion he had been about to suggest.

“If conditions have not improved in two days time, I will send a messenger to Atlantis, to request that Doctor Beckett come and make a determination.” She turned to him with a wicked smile on her face. “Would you prefer to take on this dangerous mission, Sir John, or will my usual messenger be sufficient?”

His heart beat wildly at the suggestion. This was a perfectly legitimate excuse to return to Atlantis and gauge the queen’s mood. A second later, the specter of Elizabeth’s angry face floated before him and he shook his head. “While I would not deny my lady any service, I’m certain her people would be better served if I remained here and assisted in caring for the sick.”

He avoided her gaze, but felt her watching him closely. They neared the village, and she made only one further comment. “I hope this sickness has run its course by Solstice. It is an excellent time for giving gifts and making amends for past mistakes.”

He glowered as she grinned and walked away from him.

* * *

As the royal physician, Carson Beckett’s primary concern was with the health of the royal family. At the moment, of course, there was only the young queen. Someday, her consort and children would also be his charge. For now, he attended to everyone in the queen’s inner circle. That task alone would keep him busy, but his training by the Asgard and his reputation among the nobility at court meant he was in high demand for every ache and pain suffered by half the population of Atlantis.

He had little time left for any personal pursuits, something he had explained to his future wife many times over. And judging by their current conversation, he would have to keep repeating himself for some time. “Laura, I have a great deal of work to do today.”

“I am not asking you to give up your entire morning, merely to come with me to speak to the jewelers for a quarter of an hour,” Laura said, clearly irritated.

He continued packing his case hurriedly as he spoke. He tried frequently to tell Laura about his work, but she seemed to have minimal interest in the sufferings of others unless it affected the queen somehow. Lately all she seemed concerned with were arrangements for their wedding in the spring. He had given up discussing the interesting cases he found, all the while wishing she could exert herself at least a little on his behalf. “I have at least three patients waiting for me to visit them,” he reminded her tiredly. “Not to mention that I have not spoken to Master Hermiod for nearly three weeks and must make time to visit the sanctuary.”

“No,” Laura said firmly. She looked dangerously close to stomping her foot. “You will not shuffle off every decision about our wedding onto my shoulders.”

“Laura, love, be reasonable,” he began, closing the bag and preparing to don his cloak. “You know how busy I am-”

Her face darkened dangerously. “And somehow you believe I am not also busy? That my service to her Majesty does not make great demands on my time?

Carson opened his mouth but didn’t speak, for he had indeed been thinking to himself that of the two of them, Laura had greater time to handle the preparations.

“She has been very gracious in allowing me to look to the business of the wedding but I cannot go on like this without compromising my duty to her. And I will not do so, Carson. You should be absolutely clear on this point.”

He was running late, and was growing angry himself. Shortness of temper made him snap: “So what you are saying is that our marriage can only ever be your second priority? That our life together matters less to you than the queen? That I matter less?”

The worst way to handle Laura when she was angry was to respond in kind. Calmness and reason could usually reach her, but right now they were both growing furious. Laura clenched her fists at her sides. “Her Majesty has depended on my service and my loyalty since I was a small child, Carson. I gave my life to her long before you ever expressed an interest in my heart. If you cannot accept that, then perhaps...” She stuttered to a halt, looking both upset and slightly fearful. Carson’s stomach clenched as he realized what she had been about to say. He was unsure how a small argument had suddenly left them on the brink of breaking their engagement.

Before either of them could speak, however, a messenger knocked and entered Carson’s workroom hastily. “Master Beckett? Lord Daniel is requesting your presence in the queen’s chambers immediately.”

* * *

Daniel cursed silently, looking at Elizabeth, who sat primly in a chair with her arms folded across her chest. She looked worn and pale, and her nose was bright red from sneezing. They had been dealing with urgent messages for nearly an hour this morning until Daniel realized Elizabeth was coughing every few minutes, and getting worse. He sent for Beckett over her objections, and thus she was mildly annoyed with him.

He didn’t particularly care, of course. If she was genuinely ill, her health was all that mattered, and the business of the realm would have to wait. He just wished Lord George or Jack were there to help him convince Elizabeth of that fact. Both men were away from Atlantis temporarily. Jack was meeting with Master Teal’c, the Jaffa ambassador, and Lord George was tending to business on his own estates after a bad storm had hit and caused some flooding.

Historically, Elizabeth was less likely to resist if at least two of them were there to confront her.

Beckett arrived with Lady Laura in tow. The young woman went to stand with Lady Katherine, who had been sitting unobtrusively along the wall while the physician examined Elizabeth. He felt her pulse and then watched critically as Elizabeth attempted to contain a bad fit of coughing. Kate and Laura hurried to her side with water.

“It is my opinion, your Majesty, that you have a bad cold,” Beckett said at length.

“Thank you, Doctor, for that great revelation,” Elizabeth said sullenly.

Being quite familiar with Elizabeth’s temperament when she was unwell, Beckett merely rolled his eyes, turning to Daniel. “She needs to rest for today, my lord, lest her condition worsen.”

Feeling somewhat relieved, Daniel nodded. “I will cancel the rest of your appointments for today, my lady.”

“Daniel-” she began, trying to protest. But she looked from his face to Carson’s. Noting the expressions on Kate and Laura as well, she sighed. “I see I am to be outvoted on this matter,” she grumped, though she also looked somewhat relieved.

Carson waved a hand. “To bed with you, my lady,” he said with a small smile. Elizabeth pretended to be scandalized, but she allowed Laura to support her arm as she rose. “I will have a tea brewed to soothe your lungs and throat.”

After exchanging a look with Carson, Kate went to fetch hot water and Daniel tapped Carson’s shoulder. He could not help asking quietly: “You are certain it is just a cold?”

“Aye, my lord. It is that season of the year, and her Majesty has been under much strain. A day or so of rest and light food will likely do the trick.”

Daniel hoped fervently that the doctor was correct. They could ill afford Elizabeth appearing weak just now.

* * *

While the queen was sleeping through her usual luncheon hour, Kate headed for the kitchens. She wrapped her shawl around her shoulders a little more snugly as she descended a narrow staircase seldom used by anyone who did not have business in the royal chambers. As a result it was one of the more private passageways in the palace, but it was also one of the coldest. The weather had turned foul and stormy as the morning ended, and chill winds were beginning to howl around the tower.

She expected to pass between the guards at the bottom without incident, but Marcus Lorne, captain of the queen’s personal guard, was speaking to them. He had been interviewing new candidates for the royal guard all day, so she had not expected to see him before evening. They nodded to each other, and Kate walked off toward the kitchens. She was not surprised when, a few seconds later, she heard him hurrying to catch up to her.

“Good afternoon,” she said when he reached her side.

“Good afternoon, my lady.” He looked at her curiously. “Does the queen not have meetings all day?”

“She was feeling ill,” Kate explained. “Lord Daniel thought it best if she rested this afternoon. Doctor Beckett wanted her to try to sleep.”

Marcus laughed softly. “I have my doubts about that.”

“So did he,” she replied in a conspiratorial whisper. “He gave her something.”

Shaking his head, he asked, “So where are you off to?”

“She’ll be awake at any time,” Kate said, “and probably hungry. The cook was to make some soup for her.”

“And you’re fetching it?”

She nodded. “I’m a bit tired of being in there,” she confessed. Since the coronation, it seemed almost all of the queen’s time was taken up in her chambers or in crowded rooms, with many people begging for her attention or for favors. It was growing tiresome in more ways than one. “I must say, I am eager to travel the country with the queen when spring arrives. Though I suppose you are not.”

He shrugged, looking thoughtful. “I’ve no doubt that the change in scenery will be welcome,” he replied, “but the prospect of ensuring her safety in a new place is not a simple one.”

“I can well imagine.”

“Do you have any idea of where she plans to go?”

Kate thought about it for a moment. “I know she has wished for several years now to see Langford,” she replied. “Lord Daniel has wished it as well. Aside from that... “ She debated momentarily, but Marcus would learn this news soon enough. “I know she had a letter from Prince Radek a few days ago. He has extended her an invitation to visit Iolan sometime next year.”

Marcus looked suitably impressed. “That should get the gossipmongers out in full force.”

She gave him a small, wry smile. “Do you imagine that giving her a ship did not produce that very effect already?”

He chuckled. “Do you think she will accept?”

“The invitation to Iolan? Almost certainly.” Kate paused. “Any other question he asks her... I have my doubts.”

“Why?”

“She regards him as a dear friend, but nothing more,” she replied, lowering her voice. “And you know as well as I that sometimes her independence outweighs her good sense.”

To her surprise, Marcus frowned. “You think she should marry where she does not love?”

Something in his tone of voice made Kate’s cheeks warm, and she had to resist the urge to bite her lip to keep control. “I think it is better for her to marry a man she genuinely likes and respects, and a man who can help her raise children who will be able to serve Atalan one day,” she replied. “I fear she cannot afford to wait to find a man she loves who would also make a suitable consort.” Marcus appeared grave, and Kate looked at him curiously. “What is it?”

“I know someone must think of such things in such terms,” he said, “but I wish that you, as her friend, did not have to take the matter so seriously.”

Kate laughed mirthlessly as they entered the grand foyer just off the main entrance to the palace. “I think, Captain, that you do not understand what marriage is in this circle of society.”

“I think, Kate, that you underestimate me.” They stopped walking, and he faced her. She could not help but notice his pointed use of her given name when she had addressed him by rank. “My parents may be commoners, but their marriage was arranged. They are deeply fond of each other now, but the early days of their marriage were loveless indeed.”

“Then you know that love can follow,” she pressed.

“I believe they were lucky.” His simple statement made her swallow hard, as did the look in his eyes as he stared at her earnestly. “And I believe that when I marry, I will wish to feel something for my bride beyond mere friendship.”

Kate was not sure how to take such a pronouncement, so it was just as well that their attention was drawn away by someone else entering the hall. She recognized him immediately as Teyla’s messenger from Athos. He was soaked through. “My lady,” he said, bowing tiredly to Kate, “I fear I bring bad news for the queen.”

* * *

Though she had slept well, Elizabeth woke from her nap feeling quite cranky, knowing that her doctor and at least one of her ladies-in-waiting had conspired against her. She had too much work yet to do to yield to a simple cold, and while she loved her cousin dearly, Daniel’s overprotective streak frustrated her at times.

The college had almost ceased with its hints, overt or otherwise, that she was unfit to rule. The swiftness with which Captain Pendergast had sought out skilled laborers and begun reconstructing the shipyards had helped to quell their comments immensely. From nearly any tower or parapet in the palace one could see the work being done – a massive timber frame had been started just a few days earlier – and that alone was almost enough to silence any objections to her actions.

_Almost._

“Caldoran” was almost a byword in Atalan, so it was hardly unsurprising that her people would have difficulty overcoming the instant prejudice against John of Sheppard. Elizabeth had no memory of the most recent events that had caused such hostility between the nations, and as her guardians had taught her as best they could to think for herself, her own reaction was not as strong as some. But even she was not guiltless in that regard.

However, the vehemence with which certain members of the college had derided her and Sir John were almost enough to make her wish to pay a visit to the Caldoran court simply out of spite.

And on top of everything else, she found that she missed John’s company. More than once she considered sending for him, but she knew full well such an action would cause more harm, so she never did. John had apparently decided to remain in Athos until told otherwise, so she did not expect him to return, leaving her no options. Needless to say, the last month had been far from easy.

Elizabeth was about to head out of her chambers to get back to her work when the door to the corridor opened. She was surprised to see Kate and Marcus Lorne and a messenger she recognized entering the antechamber. “My lady,” Kate said, nodding to her.

“Lady Katherine,” she replied formally. “Is something amiss?”

Kate glanced at the messenger, who was looking rather bedraggled. “This messenger has come from Lady Teyla,” she explained. “His news is not good.”

“Tell me at once,” Elizabeth said to the young man. “Then you must stay long enough to get yourself warm and dry.”

“I thank you, Majesty,” he said. “There is a sickness in Athos. Far worse than we have seen in many years. There are two dead already, and many more ill.”

Thankfully, this was hardly a situation which would require endless deliberation with the college. “I will send my physician today,” she replied immediately, “for I know of no other man in the kingdom more capable in matters of medicine. He will have assistants with him so the healers in Athos may rest.”

“That is excellent news, my lady,” the messenger said, bowing to her. “Thank you.”

“Laura,” Elizabeth said, looking over her shoulder, “will you see to our guest’s comfort?”

The younger woman nodded, and she directed the messenger out of the room. When they had left, Kate looked at Elizabeth. “My lady,” she said, “if it is all right with you, I wish to accompany Doctor Beckett to the mainland.” Elizabeth looked at her, bewildered, and Kate added, “I have some experience in the sick room, and I imagine they will need every able body they can have.”

In her offer was another suggestion, unspoken. This would hardly be the first time that a subject had misrepresented the gravity of a situation to her, and Elizabeth knew that Kate would not deal lightly with the truth in reporting to her.

Elizabeth nodded and looked to Lorne, who had been standing by silently. “Captain, I would have you accompany Lady Katherine and Doctor Beckett,” she said. She saw him open his lips to object that his place was in the palace guarding her, but she continued before he could speak. “There will likely be a storm tonight, so I doubt there is much to fear from the Wraith, but with so many sick, Athos is vulnerable now.”

“Understood,” he said, with a defeated nod. But it did not escape Elizabeth’s notice that before he departed, he shot a small smile at Kate. The lady’s reaction was somewhat flustered, and Elizabeth wondered, not for the first time, why Kate had yet to master the flush on her cheeks whenever Lorne took to teasing her. It was not as though she was the only woman he ever flirted with.

But such thoughts were quickly pushed from her mind as she sent for Carson, who welcomed Kate’s help in organizing the group to cross the channel. When they left, Elizabeth felt distracted, wishing she had asked the messenger for the names of the sick. As she tried to focus on her work, she kept telling herself that the fear settling into her stomach had nothing to do with John.

* * *

Marcus Lorne was Atalan-born, so the chill weather and violent storms no longer disturbed him on most days, but even he was hardly eager to ride the ferry across the choppy seas to Athos. It had been a source of amusement to many of them how Sir John, the new knight in the queen’s service, had ceaselessly grumbled about the weather all through the autumn. It was particularly funny given that after the approaching Solstice holidays, winter would set in hard and temperatures would drop drastically.

Marcus arranged for his men to handle the queen’s security in his absence, and prepared supplies to be moved to the village. His thoughts, however, dwelt on the fair-haired lady he was to accompany.

Since arriving at court, Marcus’ nature seemed to suit the new sovereign and her ladies-in-waiting. But where Lady Laura and even the queen always seemed to welcome his presence and his sense of humor, Lady Katherine had presented something of a challenge. Slightly older than the queen, she was more serious and more restrained. Never a man to back down from a challenge, especially where a beautiful lady was concerned, Marcus had made it his object to make Kate react as often as possible. He was especially proud of his ability to do so when she clearly felt she should not be so open with her feelings.

That she looked even more beautiful when she laughed only goaded him onwards. Atalan’s court was full of handsome women, including the queen herself, but Marcus lately found his eye resting on Kate more than any of the others.

His lady – at least for this moment, she was his charge – was waiting near the gates, wrapped in a heavy cloak. Marcus pushed back the stirrings of interest that had been growing for several months. While he was confident that Kate felt something like friendship for him, he could hope for no more. He had been born the second son of a commoner, and though the queen had made good on an old promise and knighted him just after the coronation, Kate had been born to a noble family that traced its lineage back generations.

He had accepted more than one offer from other ladies in Atlantis, but a casual liaison with Kate was out of the question. She would never do such a thing, and he suspected that his desire for her was not simply a longing to be invited into her bed, though his body certainly welcomed the thought.

He was only just beginning to acclimate himself to his new position in life and establish his reputation within the court. If he did marry, it would not be for some years yet, and by then... by then Lady Katherine would surely be the wife of some important and powerful man who was her equal in rank.

She was his for this moment and no more, he reminded himself sternly as her blue eyes met his briefly. He would content himself with being her friend, and keeping her and the lady they both served safe.

* * *

Had she taken a moment to think about the conditions of the voyage, Kate might have not been quite so hasty to volunteer to go to Athos. The ferry was lurching unpleasantly back and forth underneath her feet, and despite living near the ocean most of her life, her stomach was roiling unhappily. Kate huddled inside her cloak, wishing for the rough journey to be over.

But even with her discomfort, and the prospect of what might lie ahead of them, it was something of a relief to escape the palace for a short while.

Kate loved both the queen and Laura more than her own life. She would gladly place herself between them and the slightest danger. She was happy for Laura and her engagement to Doctor Beckett. It was a source of unending amusement for both Kate and Elizabeth to listen to Laura rant about the wedding preparations and the lectures from various ladies of the nobility regarding what Laura referred to as her “wifely duties” with marked derision.

At the same time, Kate could not rid herself of small surges of jealousy. She despised herself for it, but the feeling could not be conquered.

Her mother, Lady Maria, had reiterated many times that Kate was expected to find a husband of “suitable rank.” Having spent the past decade of her life in the company of the nobility of a number of countries, Kate no longer put much credence in the connection between rank and inherent worth. Several wealthy, high-born men had made offers of marriage to her in the past two years. One had done so within an hour of their first meeting, to Kate’s horror. That gentleman had spoken as if discussing the acquisition of a parcel of land – land he intended to plow for his own benefit, Kate had thought with vicious amusement. One or two of her suitors had been decent enough, but all of them were clearly interested in her only for her position as a close confidant of the queen-elect. Not one of them had inspired even feelings of friendship, much less love or passion.

It was not her future husband Kate envied Laura of; it was the sparkle in her eyes when she spoke of him. Certainly none of her own suitors had produced a response that matched the way her heart lately sped up every time she met the eye of the captain of the queen’s guard.

Her cheeks flushed, hidden deep in her cloak, and Kate chastised herself. Since the day Marcus Lorne had arrived, he had flirted with her, as well as with Laura and even Elizabeth on occasion. While she found him extraordinarily handsome and kind, she had not initially thought more of him than that he was a genial companion, and exceedingly pleasant to look at.

But what she had dismissed to herself as a simple attachment, born more out of physical interest than anything else, had begun to dig deeper into her mind and heart over the past year. She told herself this change was due only to the contrast Marcus presented to the empty-headed men who had sought her favor.

A horrible blast of wind tore at her cloak and Kate scrambled to hang on to the side of the ferry as it began to pitch more violently. The waves about them were topped with white, but thankfully they were within sight of the shore. She hung on and watched as Captain Lorne and his men, along with Doctor Beckett, worked with the ferry’s small crew to keep the ship upright and moving through the storm.

Marcus was legendary for his flirtatious nature. She had no reason to believe he felt anything for her other than the friendship he showed to all of them. And she would not make a fool of herself. Though Laura and Elizabeth had teased her about the way his compliments made her blush for years, neither of them suspected anything had changed. And if they did not know, she could be certain he did not either.

She would master this, she promised herself as another wave struck the ferry. Frigid water poured over the side, causing her to lose her grip on the rail. Then another wave, much larger and coming from the other direction, struck the ship, and Kate’s feet went out from under her as the water surged over the deck. She had one moment to hear someone scream her name before she plunged into the dark chill of the sea.  



	2. Chapter 2

The days were growing shorter swiftly in Atalan as the year drew to a close, and Daniel doubted that the party the queen had sent to Athos would be back before morning. This left Elizabeth without the company of both Kate and Captain Lorne for the rest of the day, and without much to do, since Doctor Beckett had instructed she not exert herself to any end while she was sick. Elizabeth had never taken easily to confinement, and boredom and loneliness would not help.

In the two months since the coronation she'd hardly had a moment to herself. Her guardians had tried their best to acquaint her with the day-to-day realities of running the country, but with the actual administration out of their hands it had been impossible to give her a firm understanding of how often she would be awake at dawn and not be done with her work before midnight.

He told himself it was the long hours that had resulted in her having a mild cold, even as some frantic part of his mind worried that the illness on the mainland was somehow connected. But he had not opposed Elizabeth sending Carson Beckett to Athos. His paranoid imaginings were less important than a whole village.

He would not voice the thought aloud, but he wondered if Elizabeth's concern for the Athosians was not in some way influenced by the fact that Sir John was there. Elizabeth had not spoken of the man for some weeks as she struggled to deal with the fractious college of lords, but occasionally some look on her face made Daniel think that the knight was never far from her thoughts.

It did not surprise him when she arrived at his door in the late afternoon. That she did so unannounced and called his name while his back was turned did and he jumped.

He whirled around but relaxed quickly. "Cousin," he said, pretending to glare. "You really must get out of that habit."

She smiled but did not apologize. "My mother always said you were easy to startle."

Daniel rolled his eyes a little. "She would know." His mother, Agatha, had been considerably older than her sister, Elizabeth's mother, and so Daniel had grown up with Margaret of Langford more like a sister to him than an aunt.

Elizabeth wandered restlessly around his office. "I wondered if we might talk."

He nodded, walking over to his small table and pulling out a chair for her. When she was seated he took his place next to her. "What is it?"

"I had a letter from Iolan a few days ago," she replied. "When Prince Radek was here for the coronation I chanced to tell him of my hope to travel in the spring. Now he has extended me an invitation to visit him in Iolan."

Daniel gave her a small smile. "After all the trips he has made here, I suppose it is only fair that you visit him."

That did not amuse her as he had hoped. Instead, Elizabeth appeared to be growing anxious. "Daniel, I am inexperienced about a great many things, but I would have to be a great fool not to realize that Prince Radek intends to court me," she said.

That much was true. Radek of Iolan was nothing if not forthright, and Elizabeth was good at reading people. "Why should this bother you?" Daniel asked. "I have always thought you admired him a great deal."

"I do," she said, sounding almost plaintive, "but I fear I will never see him as more than a friend."

"Long and happy marriages have been built on lesser foundations than that, Elizabeth," he replied, taking her hand.

"I know." She paused a moment. "Daniel, I was very young then, but I remember when your wife died," she said softly. "I remember how devastated you were. Even now her name barely ever crosses your lips. That is not grief for a friend."

He shook his head. "No, it is not," he said. "Elizabeth, there is a passion that can exist between a husband and wife that... I cannot explain."

Elizabeth pressed her lips together for a moment. "I do love him, Daniel, but no more than I love you or Jack or any other man in my acquaintance. I do not know that I can marry him under such circumstances. I do not know if I could bear his children if I do not love their father."

Daniel did not quite know what to say to that, but then Elizabeth seemed to shake it off. "I am sorry," she said with a sigh. "Perhaps I am making a matter out of nothing. I have felt so helpless today about the situation in Athos that I must be coming up with problems that I can address."

"Are you sure there is not something else?" he asked, and wished he had not a moment later. While they were close as brother and sister, there were still certain subjects that Elizabeth did not discuss with him.

"What do you mean?"

He could not lie to her, at least not when she was in this state. "Sir John."

Her cheeks flushed pink, but her voice was cold. "Cousin."

Daniel bowed his head. "My apologies, Majesty."

"I should go."

She rose to leave, and Daniel went to open the door. But before he did so, he said, "Elizabeth, go to Iolan. You owe him that much for his friendship. And do not settle your mind about this until you do so. Prince Radek has been a good friend to you, but he has been careful not to push for more because he knew your mind was resolved on not considering marriage until after you reached the throne. Give him a chance, and see what feelings might grow between you. Your heart may yet turn to him."

Slowly she nodded, and then left him alone. He did not go directly back to his work, but instead pulled a decanter from his desk, hoping sincerely that this period in his cousin's life did not always leave him in need of a drink.

* * *

Jonas Quinn had spent the last month in Atalan, but kept himself inland. One long river sprang up in the mountains and flowed to the sea, and villages and small towns dotted the river's path all the way. In the foothills, the communities were large enough to bring him some income, and close enough to Atlantis that he could hear the latest news from the palace in a reasonable amount of time.

Some amount of surprise had swept through the countryside when the queen announced that she had knighted a Caldoran for his valiant actions on her behalf, but Jonas had a suspicion that her problems lay more with the nobility than with the common folk. There were likely none in Atalan who would send their sons to Caldora to find themselves brides, but the reaction away from Atlantis was probably less severe than the queen had feared. The people Jonas heard speaking of the matter in the mountain villages seemed willing to overlook a Caldoran heritage when the man had saved the queen's life.

But with his information now fully disclosed, Jonas realized that he need not fear any unscrupulous man who might attempt to coerce that knowledge from him. He had a great desire to see the people of Hoff and perhaps even celebrate the coming Solstice holiday with them. He had understood that there was nothing quite like the winter solstice in Atalan, so one morning he packed up his belongings and headed northeast, along the river and then along the coast, until he reached the village of Athos.

He arrived a few hours after noon on a cold, miserable day and was surprised by the deadly calm of the village. Had the Wraith struck, even with the choppy seas? His chest tightened at the memory of that terrible night in Hoff, and he hurried into the village, looking for anyone who might still be there.

A door opened, and a familiar woman came out, a large basin in her hands. When she saw him she froze. "Master Quinn," she said. "I thought you were long gone."

"Mistress Perna," he replied, nodding to her. "Is something wrong?"

She turned away from him, emptying water out of the basin. "There is an illness in the village," she said. "You should continue on your way a few weeks, until it is safe here again."

Jonas shook his head. "I would rather stay and help as I can."

Perna opened her mouth to say something to him, but the door she had just come through opened again, this time revealing John of Sheppard with a small child crying in his arms. "I'm sorry, Perna, but I can't get him calm..." The man's voice trailed off as he saw Jonas, a cold, blank look coming over his face. Jonas almost winced. He imagined that by now the knight knew that it was he who had betrayed his identity.

Whatever they had to say would have to wait. There came a shout from the direction of the sea, announcing the arrival of a ferry from Atlantis. Lady Teyla hurried out of another house to meet Doctor Beckett and the party that accompanied him. But what surprised them all was the sight of a soaking wet Captain Lorne with Lady Katherine, equally drenched but unmoving, cradled in his arms.

* * *

Had he not been so terrified, Marcus would have smiled at the irony of Kate coming here to tend to the sick and ending up needing to be tended herself.

Beckett had left them to examine the sick Athosians. His instructions, which had shocked Marcus more than a little, had concluded with a stern admonishment: "I know you'll take care of Lady Katherine. None of us will speak of this again."

The words were a double warning. Marcus would do what Beckett had ordered, and he would neither do nor say anything that might endanger Kate's honor. If he didn't... Beckett was a normally gentle man but Marcus had no desire to learn what would happen if Beckett were well and truly angry with him.

The upper room in the small cottage had a fire already lit. Marcus added fuel and set the men who had not gone with Beckett to stand watch outside with strict orders not to enter or allow anyone but Beckett to so much as touch the door handle.

His hands shook as he unfastened the back of Kate's gown. The sheer indecency of it made him feel ill. He'd always held the deepest repugnance for any man who forced himself on a woman, and even though he knew his only concern at the moment was her health, he felt unclean.

He'd never undressed a woman without her assistance either, and removing the intricate petticoats distracted him enough to get Kate down to her undergarments. He swallowed hard, unable not to look at her, before settling her on top of one of the blankets as close to the fire as he dared. He then stripped out of his own wet clothing. He shivered, realizing the cold water had affected him more than he had thought. Then there was nothing left but to stretch out behind Kate, wrap them both in the blankets and hold her.

At first, he simply alternated between looking at her and watching the fire. The shaking in his own limbs subsided as their body heat combined under the heavy woolen blankets. He began to feel drowsy but fought it off. Kate tossed restlessly, murmuring something he couldn't make out. She pushed herself closer to him, looking distressed, and without thinking he reached out and smoothed her tangled hair gently. Her body was growing even warmer, and his alarm jumped another notch.

He dimly remembered waking in the sick room of Atlantis and seeing Kate hovering over him. He'd been injured trying to protect the queen – the princess then – from an assailant. His wounds had been serious, and when he had opened his eyes to see Kate, with her angelic face looking down on him, he thought to himself he must have died. He learned later he dwelt in a fevered state for nearly three days before the illness broke. He hoped desperately that Kate was not currently headed for such a battle.

He was debating whether or not to get up and add more wood to the fire when he heard a soft gasp. Her large blue eyes were fixed on him, and the confusion and outright fear he saw made him miserable. "Welcome back, my lady," he said as calmly as possible. "How are you feeling?"

Kate looked down, noticing their mutual state of undress. She seemed too stunned to speak at the enormous impropriety of their situation, so he asked, keeping his voice low, "Do you remember what happened on the ferry?"

Kate frowned, the familiar line appearing on her forehead that he had often wished to erase somehow. "I remember the waves growing larger..." she said slowly. "How did I get here? Where are we?"

His arms tightened about her involuntarily. "You were knocked overboard. A wave struck the ferry broadside and you lost your balance and fell into the sea. I jumped in after you, but you have been unconscious since then. We're in the village."

He could see that she had no memory of her fall. His own heart was racing at the recollection of seeing her blonde hair disappearing under the angry waters. He'd taken just long enough to shed his sword and boots and dove headfirst into the water after her. It had been reckless and could very well have killed them both, the combined weight of her dress and his leather armor trying to drag them under the surface. But his men and the ferry crew had been swift to throw a rope and pull both of them back onto the ship.

Kate didn't meet his eyes. "Where is Carson?"

"He's tending the villagers. He ordered me to do... this," Marcus said, unable to help the way his face was heating with embarrassment. "To keep us both warm. He'll be back to check on us shortly, I've no doubt."

She didn't attempt to pull away, only turned her head to look at the fire. Guilt tore at him and he reached out and touched one of her hands. "My lady, you must believe that I would never repeat a word of this to another soul. All anyone other than the doctor and yourself will know is that I stayed with you while you were ill."

Kate nodded, still not looking at him. Unable to stop himself, he caught her chin with his fingers and made her look at him. She was crying silently. He brushed the tears away with his thumb. "I would never dishonor you, Kate. Please believe me."

She turned her back to him, folding her hands under her head. "I thank you, Captain," she said with the chilly, formal tone he loathed hearing directed at himself. "I am feeling much better now." He recognized the dismissal and thought perhaps she was simply attempting to protect herself from embarrassment until he heard her next words, spoken in a low and bitter voice that tore at him. "I would not wish to repulse you further."

He gaped, then grabbed her shoulder and forced her onto her back to look up at him. "Repulsed?" he asked incredulously. "Is that why you think...?" The hurt and angry look in her eyes answered his unfinished question.

In response, he leaned over and kissed her. It was not a gentle kiss, and her hands went to his shoulders to hold him off. But his mouth was insistent on hers, coaxing her lips to part. When they did, he deepened the kiss, exulting in the way she responded even as his own common sense reasserted itself.

He pulled away, thinking smugly that his point had been made, and then realized what he'd done. Beckett had entrusted him with her safety, and he was abusing the situation. He opened his mouth to speak some apology, but Kate surprised him again. She wrapped an arm around his neck, drawing him back and kissing him eagerly.

It was impossible for him not to kiss her back, and it was mere moments before the awkwardness left them and desire rose in its wake. Marcus shifted, hovering over her, thoroughly enjoying the brush of her curves against his bare chest. Kate matched his hunger with her own, and soon he felt her fingers threading through his hair and holding him fiercely as the kiss melted into another and another.

Finally his lips drifted from her mouth to her jaw and throat and he whispered in her ear, "Did you honestly think I do not desire you, Kate?" He nibbled on her earlobe, delighting in the moan of pleasure he caused. "Have you any idea what I would give to have the right to touch you like this every night? To be able to take you right here and now?"

"Marcus," she breathed and their eyes locked. In that instant he knew with utter certainty that his interest in her was returned with more passion than he would ever have guessed. The only thing that mattered to him in that moment was that Kate wanted him as much as he wanted her.

He kissed her deeply then, losing himself in the warmth of her arms wrapped around his shoulders and her soft form underneath his. Months of longing for her surged through his blood and his body responded to the feel of her, his hands dragging her closer as she returned his kiss.

Even as he bent his head and let the taste of her lovely skin wash through him, some part of his mind began to scream insistently that he had to stop. It was difficult for logic to compete with the woman in his arms, nearly naked and pressing herself willingly against him, so tightly that she had to feel how he wanted her. Even as his mouth trailed down the swell of her breast, he fought against the spiraling lust within him until he was able to pull away.

Kate did not appear to want him to move, for she tried to pull him back with such determination they struggled with each other momentarily. Marcus ended up grabbing her wrists and pinning her arms on either side of her head. He thought he had her immobilized but Kate arched her back, pushing her hips against his in a way that sent fire coursing through him. He could not help the thought that it would take only a few quick movements to bury himself inside of her. He could make her his right now, take her body and lay his claim on her forever...

And ruin her. She was still a virgin, he was certain of that, and their mutual desire for one another was not the same as a marriage contract. All the reasons that he had never spoken of his affection aloud were still between them. If he gave in, he would destroy her.

He looked down at Kate, noting that her face was flushed with more than just his caresses. She was still in the throes of her fever, and he could not take advantage of that to satisfy his own base instincts.

"No, Kate," he said, surprised at how hoarse he sounded. "I won't use you this way." He released her wrists and managed to move away from her, covering his still-aroused body with a blanket.

Kate rose up on one elbow, the hurt look creeping back across her beautiful features. "I thought you said..."

He brushed his thumb against her lips, silencing her. "I would give a great deal to be your lover, Kate, but not like this. You deserve to have this in a bed, not on the floor, and not when your mind is clouded by fever." She leaned into his touch and something deeper than mere lust tightened his stomach. He attempted to tease her. "And I may be a brave man, but I would fear the consequences if the queen's cousin or Lord Jonathan discovered I had seduced you. No place under the heavens would be safe for me."

"It is not as though I am objecting," Kate answered and then froze as she realized the truth of her own words. Her face flushed almost crimson and he had to smile at her belated realization. She moved away, pulling the blankets up much higher, covering her body and removing some of his temptation.

A silence fell between them as he got up and added more logs to the fire and made sure their clothing was spread out and beginning to dry. He pulled his own tunic over his head, trying to think of something to say. His usual ability to make pretty speeches to a woman seemed to have fled, so he settled himself on the floor next to her again and simply asked, "Why did you not tell me?"

She frowned at the fire. "I didn't think you cared about me in that way." He thought of all the times he had sought her out, to provide comfort or simple companionship or his protection. Something in his expression must have given his thoughts away, for she added, "I never felt that you treated me any differently than you did Laura, or even Elizabeth."

He began to deny it, but then sighed. "I feared expressing my interest too boldly."

"Why?" she asked apprehensively.

He snorted. "Think of what you are asking. You are almost constantly in the company of the woman who now rules Atalan, or the men who are the highest nobles in the country," he said. "I can only imagine their wrath if I had shown too much interest in you, especially if it was unwelcome." Lord Jonathan, in particular, regarded Laura and Kate with nearly as much care as he did the queen, and he was merciless toward anyone who dared lay an unwanted hand on either of them.

"You have hardly been as discreet as you think," Kate retorted. "Laura and Elizabeth have been teasing me about you for years."

An arrogant grin spread over his face that clearly irritated her. "They have?"

Kate rolled her eyes and his smile faded. He reached out and took her hand. "Kate," he began slowly. "You are a high-born lady who waits on the queen of the realm. I'm the son of a commoner." Her eyes flashed with anger, which only served to rouse his own temper. "And my life is my service to the queen."

"You forget, I serve her as well," she said too softly.

He hadn't forgotten. Service was what had brought them together, and he was grateful for that. "There is so much distance between us, Kate. I know full well that you are expected to marry a man of equal or greater rank to you." Even as he spoke, he wondered at his own hesitation. Had he not been futilely wishing for her to care for him these last months? Why then was he attempting to push her away?

She withdrew her hand and stood awkwardly, her legs entangled in the blankets. "What you are saying, sir, is that you desire my body, but not enough to consider me worthy of being your wife."

He leapt to his feet. "No, Kate, that is not my meaning-"

"Then what?" she demanded, her face radiating fury.

"I am saying that I cannot ask you to delay your life for me. I am saying that I am not worthy of being your husband."

"Should that estimation not be mine to make?" she said, glaring.

"You know it doesn't work that way, Kate," he snapped back.

"So what would you have us do, then? Will we go back to denying our feelings? And then will I wait until I find a _suitable_ man of _suitable_ age and rank and marry him, and ignore my cold bed and miserable heart all because of my new lord's status?"

"No!" His hands clenched around her shoulders before he could think. The mere thought of her in another man's bed raised a jealous rage in him that startled them both. He had hated the thought before just in the abstract, but now, knowing exactly how she looked when her passions had been roused, the idea of another man caressing her that way was intolerable. "No," he repeated more calmly. He shook his head, forcing his fingers to relax. "That is not what I want for either of us."

Some of the fire left her as well. "Then what, Marcus?"

He sighed. "There are those who question the queen's placing me in my position. And you know that she is preparing to tour the realm next year when the weather improves. I cannot afford to make any mistakes at the moment." He saw her open her mouth in shock and he quickly held up a hand before she could deliver another tongue-lashing. "Which means I cannot afford any distractions, even of the best kind."

Kate subsided. He touched her cheek again. "But if I asked you to wait for me, for heaven only knows how long, how would we endure it? Anything short of marriage will not put off suitors seeking your favor. Could you truly promise to reject all of them for me? What if some man of greater rank and worth than I appears and tries to win your heart? How can I compete with such things, Kate?"

"Do you seriously believe that I have not already faced such a decision?" she asked, amusement lighting her face for the first time. "Marcus, I have had four proposals in the last two years, all of which I have refused without a second thought."

He stared in surprise. Four? Four other men had asked for her hand already?

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Do not flatter yourself. I did not reject those men because I was pining hopelessly for you."

He smirked. He couldn't help it, for that was precisely the thought forming in his head. "Then why?" he asked.

She looked down at her hands, holding tightly to the blankets. "I did not feel anything for them, and they did not care. I cannot marry a man who is little more than a stranger. I must at least know enough of his character to respect and trust him, and consider him a friend. And that is not a bond that can be forged in the space of a few weeks, or hours," she concluded sourly.

He wondered what story lay behind that last comment, but put his curiosity aside for now. "You consider me a friend, though?"

She smiled. "Yes, and a decent and honorable man. Despite waking to find myself undressed and in your arms, before a roaring fire with you pawing at me."

Even as he flushed with embarrassment his heart soared with relief at her teasing. It had taken him too long to coax her into flirting with him in general, and he was ecstatic to hear it, especially now.

"So," he said, reaching for her hands, which she offered to him willingly. "Perhaps a close friendship and mutual desire," he paused to press the back of her hand to his lips and basked in the way her breath caught. "Might be a good place to begin to build something more, over time?"

Her smile felt to him as though the sun had burst into the dark room. "Perhaps," she answered, lifting his hand to her own lips. The gesture made him burn with renewed desire and he had to clench his teeth to control it.

"I will not make you any promises now, Kate, nor will I ask for any," he told her a moment later. "My purpose in life is to place myself between the queen and danger, and we both know the risks involved."

She shrugged, her slim fingers squeezing his calloused ones. "Do you not realize that that is my purpose as well? Those of us who are merely with her Majesty are in as much danger. Remember the prince."

He shuddered, pulling her into his arms. "Do not speak of such things," he told her.

She rested her head on his shoulder and they stood there for a moment together. Before he could speak again, there was a sharp knock on the door, followed by it swinging open to reveal Sir John. Marcus had not seen him since they arrived in the village, but his thoughts had been preoccupied with Kate.

Marcus was definitely going to need to speak to his own men about following orders exactly as they were issued.

Kate pulled away from him, startled, and hastily pulled the blankets back around her body. John's eyes went from her missing clothing to Marcus and narrowed suspiciously. He met the silent accusation with as much righteous anger as he could muster.

"Sir John," he said quietly. "I see you have escaped the illness spreading through the village?"

The other man was looking between him and Kate carefully. Marcus was grateful that Kate settled herself near the fire again, looking mostly serene and composed. At length, John nodded. "So far. Beckett is with the healers now. Lady Teyla is downstairs, preparing some tea for Lady Katherine."

"That is most kind of her," Kate answered smoothly. "I fear she will need to bring it to me, as I'm not fit to be seen _in company_ at the moment." Marcus smothered a smile at the faintly accusatory tone in her voice, directed not at him but at John for intruding on her privacy.

John looked mildly chagrined and stepped back towards the door. "My apologies, my lady. Captain, perhaps you and I should leave the lady in peace for a bit."

Marcus exchanged a knowing glance with Kate as he gathered his cloak and departed after John. So much for keeping their courtship a secret.  



	3. Chapter 3

John caught Teyla for a moment before she headed upstairs to tend to Lady Katherine and whispered a few words to her. She looked somewhat surprised, but nodded and left him alone with Captain Lorne.

When the party from Atlantis had arrived, Beckett had hurried off to settle Kate first. John had returned to helping with the two little boys from Hoff who were seriously ill. Perna, thankfully, had taken Jonas Quinn with her to collect the other healers to report to Beckett. John could not help his irritation with the man, but he had pushed it aside and concentrated on the problem before him.

Beckett had appeared shortly thereafter, saying only that Kate did not seem to be in immediate danger, and that Lorne was looking after her. John had not seen Beckett at work before, and the man was a force of nature when confronting a problem such as this fever. He was soon barking orders and asking questions until John felt himself more in the way than helping. At that point, he decided to check on Kate.

John had admired the fair-haired woman since his arrival. She seemed the only lady in the realm whose purpose in life was not pricking the egos of the men around her. John had also noted the subtle way Kate and Laura both positioned themselves between their queen and any strangers. He felt a strong need to ensure Kate was not seriously harmed, and those were the only reasons he allowed himself.

So finding the lady undressed and standing quite close with Captain Lorne, who was similarly unattired, had raised the hackles on the back of his neck. She did not act as if anything was happening against her will, though, and he knew too little of the customs of the court, not to mention the relationships between these people, to speak to her directly.

Lorne, however, was another matter. John folded his arms across his chest and stared. The captain was only a few years younger than himself, but John drew on all those years and his greater height to convey his suspicion. "Is there a need for me to ask what was going on in there?"

Lorne whipped around, anger radiating from him. That alone was almost sufficient to assuage John's fears, but the flush on Lorne's cheeks worried him. The other man's voice was tight. "You dare suggest–" he choked out.

"Captain, if you were any other man, you would be dead already," John cut him off. "However, in the past you have shown yourself to be an honorable man of excellent conduct. The queen has entrusted her safety and the safety of her ladies to you and I trust her Majesty's judgment. That is why I am only asking if there is a need for me to ask."

Lorne paused a moment. "I would give my life before I would allow anyone to dishonor Lady Katherine, or harm her in any way."

John noted Lorne was not denying anything outright. He had a strange feeling that he had stumbled upon something too complicated for him to penetrate. However, his primary concern was with Kate's safety, and it was impossible to doubt Lorne's sincerity on that score, so he nodded shortly. "Good." Unable to resist, he added, "I would recommend that you be a little more circumspect in your... clandestine meetings."

Lorne looked offended, but then his face relaxed in a dangerous fashion. "I'm certain her Majesty will be relieved that Sir John has finally concluded to trust her judgment."

It was John's turn to glare. "That is not your business, Captain."

"You lied to my queen and exposed her to great difficulty with her own people, not to mention caused her a great deal of distress. Her well-being is my responsibility, Sir John, and with me that goes beyond her mere physical safety," Lorne snapped back.

John flinched. "I have kept myself from Atlantis to try to spare her more pain. What else was I to do? Whatever you believe of me, I knew what I was promising when I swore my loyalty to her, which meant I could not simply disappear from Atalan without her consent." He drew in a deep breath and tried to calm himself. His concern for Elizabeth's well-being warred with his own pride and the former quickly won the battle. "Lady Teyla has told me that the college of lords is quieting on the subject," he said hesitantly.

Lorne shrugged, going to the table and pouring himself some of the tea Teyla had brewed. "The gossip has begun to die down. Whether any more serious questions about her ability to rule are raised will depend on what happens when the next crisis arrives, whatever it may be."

John nodded. A ruler was usually judged by his most recent acts, for better or worse. There was nothing for Elizabeth or her advisors to do but hope, and wait. His attention shifted to something else. "You said... you said she was distressed?" he asked, feeling foolish.

Lorne looked at him coolly. "Her trust was abused, and by the man to whom she feels she owes her life. How would you expect her to react?"

Guilt tore at him. "She is doubting herself." Lorne's silence was all the agreement he received but John knew he was right. "That is not right. It was not her fault–"

"Her Majesty is prone to introspection," Lorne reminded him. "She is usually extremely careful when allowing her feelings to be seen by strangers." John had guessed as much. "I believe she would feel more confident if she could be certain her trust in you was not misplaced."

John twitched, but Lorne had a fair point. Did that mean he should return to the palace unasked and seek her out?

Before he could ask any further questions, the door opened and Beckett came in. John was forced to turn his attention to helping the doctor with plans to care for the sick.

* * *

Kate was both relieved and irritated when both men left her alone with her thoughts. It had not been difficult to affect a calm, if stern, façade when Sir John had barged unannounced into her room. Living in a royal court and being the companion to a future queen had allowed for no less.

But now that she was alone, Kate was very much aware of how her nerves were still tingling. She shivered and pulled the blankets around her more tightly. Her fall into the sea had to be the source of her most unseemly and irrational behavior. At least, that was what she could claim if someone ever found out what had occurred, she thought pragmatically. A brush with death was enough to throw even the most steady person off balance. And the fever that had followed her plunge into the icy waters was more than enough to explain her moment of weakness.

In her heart, though, she knew none of those things were true.

A light knock on the door interrupted her thoughts and Kate looked up. "Come in."

The door opened to reveal Lady Teyla, who was carrying a small tray with two simply decorated teacups and a matching, steaming pot, as well as a doeskin bag whose straps hung on her right arm. Her eyes swept the room quickly, taking in the blankets still on the floor, but she smiled and asked, "Kate, how are you feeling?"

Kate stood up somewhat unsteadily. "I am much better, thank you, Teyla," she replied. Out of habit, she stepped forward to take the tray out of her friend's hands, but Teyla shook her head and moved toward the table by the room's single window.

After setting the tray down, she turned back to her. "I brought you a change of clothes, since I fear it will be some hours yet before your clothes are dry enough to be worn." She held out the bag.

"Thank you," Kate said, taking it. She moved over behind the small screen in the corner. Opening the bag, she found a plain but practical dress, a warm shawl, and, perhaps most importantly, dry undergarments.

"I was not aware you were so interested in swimming," Teyla called cheekily from the other side.

Kate rolled her eyes as she removed her still-damp underclothes and slipped gratefully into the dry garments. "Neither was I," she shot back. "And if I was, I most certainly would not begin to explore my interest on such a day as this."

She heard Teyla laugh and once she was dressed, Kate joined her at the table. She took one of the teacups offered by Teyla and sipped from it. There was a comfortable silence between the two women until Kate looked up and found Teyla studying her closely. The emotion in her eyes made Kate stiffen briefly, and then she sighed.

"I suppose," she said tiredly, "Sir John has made you aware of what he walked in on."

Teyla set her cup down. "He said only that you might need to talk to someone not from the palace," she clarified. "I already knew that Doctor Beckett sent you up here with Captain Lorne." She smiled. "I am not so simple-minded that I did not know what he meant when he said you were up here to 'warm up.'"

Kate felt her cheeks heat. "He would never even think of dishonoring me or any other lady," she burst out defensively. "Marcus was in that position for the sake of my own health and safety, and with the sanction of Doctor Beckett."

"I never said anything about him dishonoring you or any other lady," Teyla said serenely, her lips twitching in amusement.

Kate scowled, but soon realized she was more annoyed with herself than with Teyla's teasing. She knew the rumors about Marcus Lorne as well as any other woman in the court would, and she knew enough about the world to understand what normally happened when a man undressed a woman, whether with her consent or without it.

In the space of a few minutes she had gone from believing that there was nothing about herself which was pleasing to his eyes to knowing the absolute force of his desire for her. She had allowed him – no, encouraged him – to touch her as no other man had, and part of her felt a deep shame for behaving so wantonly. But at the same time, Kate knew that had it not been for his remarkable show of restraint, she would have let him have his way with her, and would likely have relished every moment. The whole encounter had been a surfeit of contradictions: shame and shamelessness, heartbreak and hope, pain and pleasure.

She had never felt so confused in her life, but so long as she was unsure of her own footing she knew one thing for certain. "There is no need to inform her Majesty of this yet," she said slowly.

Teyla held her gaze, her expression growing serious. "I will say nothing, of course. It is your business, Kate, but I suggest that you tell the queen what she needs to know. Keeping secrets can cause all sorts of problems, both for her and for you."

Kate winced. That piece of advice resonated with her unpleasantly, and she found herself feeling strangely sympathetic for John now. It seemed that that counsel was easier to give than to receive.

"Also," Teyla continued, "I cannot control what Sir John might say to the queen, when he eventually returns to Atlantis." She looked across the table at Kate pointedly. "And you know Elizabeth's ire against him will not last forever. They will speak to one another again. It is best that she hear it from you, and not from another."

Again, words so like her own to Sir John the month before. Kate inhaled sharply and finally looked away. "I understand that," she said softly.

The other woman took pity upon her and reached across the table, touching her hand gently. "Kate," she spoke reassuringly, "Captain Lorne would not give his affections lightly. If you are certain of his regard for you and yours for him, then you have nothing to fear from her Majesty."

It was not the queen Kate was concerned about, but she admitted, "I know, but there is much more at stake."

Teyla smiled, a tinge of what Kate thought might be sadness flitting across her face. "Is that not often the case?" she asked. The two sat in silence until Teyla sat her cup down and stood up. "Come," she said, gesturing for Kate to rise, "you still run the risk of becoming seriously ill. You need to continue to rest. And this time, you can rest in a bed, which I am sure is much more comfortable than lying on the floor by the fire."

Kate thought briefly to protest, recalling her purpose for being in Athos in the first place, but as she stood up, a wave of dizziness cut off all thoughts of doing anything other than what Teyla instructed her to do. She took Teyla's hand and let the other woman lead her over to the bed.

Lying down, Kate felt her eyes begin to drift shut. As consciousness slowly left her, she wondered briefly why Teyla had looked wistful only a few moments before, but the thought quickly left her as shadowy dreams invaded her exhausted mind.

* * *

The sound of people sniffling had become so normal that Carson Beckett hardly noticed it anymore. He walked among the beds arranged in the large hall, checking on his patients. Most of the adults had mild or moderate cases, but with the proper medicines and time to recuperate without straining themselves, he believed they would recover. However, a number of children had also contracted the disease and their cases were much more troubling.

Only a few of his young patients were from Athos itself, meaning the rest of them were Hoffan refugees. Carson had examined many of these children when they had been brought to Atlantis and had noted that many had signs of malnourishment, a condition stemming from something other than the trauma of the Wraith attack. The last few weeks had left them ripe for attracting disease. And that, the doctor thought grimly, was what had happened. He looked down at the small girl who lay before him. Her eyes were closed as she tried to sleep, but her tiny face was pinched as she began to cough. Even though only semiconscious, her little fist came up to cover her mouth.

Carson quickly knelt down beside the bed and pulled her up as her coughs turned to convulsions. "There, there, lass," he murmured softly, stroking her back. "Just let it out. Don't fight it."

After several moments which must have been agonizing, her coughing eased and she slumped back onto the bed and looked up at him with brown eyes bleary from exhaustion.

"Tired…" she whispered.

"I know, love," he crooned sympathetically. "Let's get some medicine in you that will help you to get some real sleep."

She wrinkled her nose like most children did when told they had to take a vile-tasting tonic, and Carson smiled slightly. She looked like one of his sisters had when they were children. He reached down into his bag and began to rummage through. As he did so, he asked, "What is your name, little one?"

"Mina," the child replied quietly, her voice trembling. Carson glanced at her and saw that she was doing her utmost to suppress another coughing fit. He quickly took out the correct bottle as well as a spoon.

"Here, Miss Mina," he said reassuringly, "take this. It will help with that cough of yours." She looked so miserable that she did not offer him any arguments, simply opened her mouth obediently.

He put the spoon into her mouth and she closed her lips around it, taking the medicine and swallowing it. Mina started slightly when she did so, apparently noticing the lack of foul taste. Carson laughed at her expression.

"Yes," he told her, "it doesn't taste so bad, does it?" He had made this particular tonic especially for children. If they were given medicine that did not taste revolting, then they would not fight it and therefore its effects so much.

Mina leaned back after a moment, her head hitting her pillow gently as she looked up at him. "You were at the palace."

He nodded. "Indeed. I am a doctor and I normally take care of the queen. When she heard that her friends here in Athos were becoming ill, she sent me and one of her ladies to help as best we could."

The little girl nodded, her eyes beginning to drift shut. "I met the queen," she murmured softly. "She ate dinner with us and held me for a while. She was very pretty."

"Yes, the queen is very pretty," Carson agreed. He was more partial to Laura's fairer complexion himself, but he did not say so out loud. He doubted the child would even notice if he did, and thinking of Laura only reminded him of their quarrel, and he could do nothing to fix that situation just now. "I shall pass on the compliment to her when I return."

Mina hummed slightly in response, but did not offer any coherent reply as she finally drifted off to sleep. Slowly, Carson stood and gathered his things, intending to clean the spoon he had used and continue to do his rounds with the patients. As he turned to leave, he spotted Mistress Perna watching him from a few feet away, at the foot of another bed. He had spoken with her upon arriving in the village. He remembered her well from the period when the Hoffan refugees were in Atlantis. Trained as a nurse and midwife, she had become one of the leaders of the Hoffans after the Wraith attack, responsible for gathering them and seeing that their needs were met. He was unsurprised that when this illness arrived, she had again taken the lead in directing the response.

He nodded cordially as she fell in step with him.

"You are a fine hand with children, sir. Mina is a particularly stubborn girl when it comes to taking any sort of medicine."

Carson smiled and glanced over at the sleeping child. "I don't think she really had the energy to fight me on taking her medicine. But I had mixed the medicine to make it more palatable and thus easier to dispense."

"Truly?" she asked curiously. Then she looked slightly embarrassed at her enthusiasm. After a moment, she continued, "Thank you for coming here to help us. Once again, we are in her Majesty's debt."

"The queen only wishes to see her people happy and healthy," he assured her. "She would not dream of holding you indebted to her."

"But we are nonetheless," Perna maintained. "We of Hoff will not forget Queen Elizabeth's great kindness to us." Carson pressed her hand for a moment, seeing the flicker of pain in her eyes at the mention of the decimated village. She recovered quickly, though. "When you have a moment, perhaps you could describe this tonic and its components? I imagine being able to offset the taste of some of these brews could prove quite helpful."

He was deeply tired, having already been overworked before this crisis. But it would be a nice change to speak of his work to someone who was genuinely interested. "Of course, mistress," he said graciously. "Though I would appreciate something to eat if that would not trouble you."

She smiled, and Carson followed her to the kitchen of a nearby cottage. He spent a pleasant hour with Perna, chatting about various remedies, until he felt it necessary to look in on his young patients again.

* * *

As Laura was assisting the queen in undressing for bed, Elizabeth observed, "It seems strangely quiet without Kate, does it not? Yet she is hardly what I would call a noisy person."

That last was said with a small grin, and Laura glared, knowing full well which of them Elizabeth would have considered noisy.

The queen began to cough again, and Laura hastened to put on her nightgown so she could take her last dose of tonic and sleep. But Elizabeth was staring at her fixedly. "You have been quiet today."

Laura sighed. She didn't particularly wish to admit her behavior this morning. It had been excessive and foolish and the product of so much strain in the last few months. Though she also felt there was something underlying the argument that needed to be sussed out. Urging Elizabeth to the bed, she evaded, "Carson and I had a disagreement this morning before he left. That's all."

"About what?" Elizabeth settled into her bed and took her medicine, then reached to help Laura unfasten the back of her own gown.

"I had asked him to go with me to meet with some of the craftsmen, but he was quite busy this morning."

"That caused a disagreement?" Elizabeth asked skeptically.

Laura wrestled with her gown and corset. "It was more than that." Elizabeth merely waited as Laura changed her clothing. Finally, she sat down in the bed and tucked her feet under the covers. "Much of the responsibility for planning the wedding is falling on my shoulders. I know that traditionally it is the woman's province to care for such things, but I believe anyone who knows me would realize I have little interest in fabrics and fashions."

The queen smiled a little, for it was the truth. "And in particular you expected Carson to know such things."

"Should not my husband of all people be aware of my likes and dislikes?" Laura burst out. "I cannot help but wonder if he knows me at all. If he is so ignorant of such a simple thing..." she trailed off for a moment as clarity descended. "What about after we are married? When we have children? He seems to expect that I can yield my time more readily than he can because he waits on life and death, but my duties are important as well."

Elizabeth rubbed her arm gently. "I do not disagree with you in principle, Laura, but you must know there will be times when life is in the balance and Carson will be summoned away."

"Yes, but what if such a thing occurs while you need me?" Laura asked stubbornly.

The queen shrugged. "I expect once any of us begins bearing our children the palace will be well stocked with nurses and nannies for each offspring," she said dryly.

Laura nodded, looking down at her knees, which were folded up under her chin. Her true fear came out in a whisper. "What if he expects something from me that I cannot give him?"

Elizabeth did not answer right away. After a silence, she asked, "When did you first realize Carson had feelings for you?"

It seemed an odd question, but Laura remembered the moment clearly. "It was in the early spring, not long after that big storm had passed, the one that struck down those trees in the south gardens." Her cheeks flushed slightly. "We were passing one another in the corridor, both of us too tired to do much more than nod. But he reached out and took my hand just briefly, and I knew there was more between us than I had understood before."

There was an arrested expression on Elizabeth's face for a moment, but then she shook herself. "So, Carson had known you for over two years by that point?"

"Yes," Laura sulked a little, understanding where Elizabeth was going.

"Then it seems reasonable that he is under no illusions about you or what to expect or not expect from you after so much time."

Laura laid herself down on the pillows. "I suppose."

"He is a good man, Laura. And he would not give his heart or pledge himself lightly."

She sighed and closed her eyes. "We should have eloped," she grumped.

Elizabeth chuckled, which turned into another cough. When that had subsided, Elizabeth rested her cheek on her hand and looked curious. "When did you realize you cared for Carson?"

Pulling the blankets up to her chin, Laura thought back. "At first I only thought him handsome and kind. In fact, I thought he would be interested in Kate when he first came to court. They seemed more suited to one another." She looked up at the ceiling, slightly abashed at what she was saying. "There have been few people in my life whom I felt I could truly trust. Aside from yourself and Kate, Carson was one of them. Last winter I began to notice his..." She smiled a little wickedly. "Virtues anew. So I kissed him."

Elizabeth giggled. "That is a night I will not soon forget. You were half-exultant, half-terrified when you returned. And you wasted no time telling us precisely what you had been up to."

"I was bound by honor to share with my lady and my friend my experiences, that they might benefit," Laura huffed with mock-arrogance.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes even as she yawned. Laura subsided, thinking it high time the queen rest, but Elizabeth murmured lowly, "So you let love follow friendship as well."

Laura was unsure what prompted that observation, but before she could ask, Elizabeth fell asleep. She curled up herself, considering Carson and their courtship for a while, wondering what she could do to remedy the situation when he returned.


	4. Chapter 4

  
By morning many of Carson’s patients were showing great improvement, even among the very old and very young who had been seriously ill. John knew that Athos was lucky to have such a benevolent monarch, and that she had such a gifted physician in her employ. Otherwise there was no way of knowing how many more they might have lost to the fever.

He sat down on the bench by the well and let out an exhausted sigh. It had only been two months since he had first laid eyes on this village and the northern sea. It was strange indeed that this part of the world had come to feel like home so quickly.

A few minutes had passed when Jonas Quinn came out of the inn and wandered around the square. Eventually their gazes met from some distance away, and as John looked down at the ground Jonas came up and sat next to him. John did not particularly want to have this conversation, but he supposed it was bound to happen eventually, whether he wished it or not.

“I hope you understand that I did not speak out of malice, my lord,” Jonas said quietly. John looked at him, and he continued, “I did what I felt I had to.”

“Do you make a habit of divulging other men’s secrets?” John asked dryly.

“No,” said Jonas, “but I knew that yours would not stay secret long, and if you are half the man Queen Elizabeth seems to think you are, you knew that too. Besides, it is not as if I know you. For all I knew, you really were spying on her.” John bristled at the suggestion, but Jonas held up his hand. “I have seen that the queen is a good person, and has the capacity to be a great ruler. I did what I did to spare her as much trouble and pain as possible. Had you stood in my place I believe you would have done the same.”

He was probably right, John realized with a little discomfort. Besides, Jonas was not responsible for the fact that John had chosen to conceal his identity. All things considered, the entire affair seemed to have caused less difficulty than he might have imagined. That did not relieve him of his guilt at his own wrongdoing, but it did make it easier to imagine going to Elizabeth and asking for her forgiveness.

“Lord John,” Jonas started to say, but John shook his head.

“Do not call me that,” he said. “I left that part of my life behind.”

Jonas looked away. “Doctor Beckett told me he intends to send the queen’s companion back to Atlantis this morning,” he said, “for fear that in her condition she may be more susceptible to the sickness here.”

As though on cue, Marcus Lorne held open the door of the small house across the way and led Kate outside. She was pale and almost fragile-looking. The captain said something in her ear and set his arm about her waist, moving with her slowly. When they reached the well, Lorne looked at John and said, “Sir John, I am taking Lady Katherine back to Atlantis this morning, but I must speak to the men I am leaving behind. Will you take her arm and continue on down to the shore?”

“Of course,” John replied. He rose from the bench, but before he took Lorne’s place he looked back down at Jonas. “Thank you, Master Quinn,” he said. He did not quite know why he said it, but it seemed to relieve the man, so he was glad he did.

He hardly had the relationship with Kate that Marcus had – even discounting what he had walked in on the previous night – but he kept her close and walked slowly to the shore road. “How are you feeling this morning, my lady?” he asked softly.

She let out a long breath. “I am weary, sir,” she replied. “And not particularly anxious to make this crossing, save that it will take me home.”

John chuckled. “I can well understand that.”

Her grip on his arm tightened slightly. “Will you be coming back to Atlantis, Sir John?”

Having made his peace with Master Quinn, it seemed perhaps the time had come to attempt to do the same with Elizabeth. Still, he hesitated. “Do you think that wise?”

She shrugged. “I think you must eventually.”

She was looking at him anxiously, and John realized belatedly that her nerves likely had little to do with his own concerns. He had felt it improper for him to broach the subject of what he had seen the previous night, but seeing her worried expression, he understood that she was afraid of him speaking on the very subject he’d thought to avoid. The irony of their respective positions now was not lost on him. “My father always told me to pass on good advice,” he began.

“I know,” Kate interrupted before he could get through it. She looked uncomfortable and he did not enjoy the sight. “You are not the first person to suggest that I tell the queen what happened between Marcus and me last night.”

“What makes you think I was speaking of that?” he asked, trying to tease her.

She laughed a little and started coughing. Concerned, John stopped walking until the coughing fit had subsided. They stood looking at each other, and Kate asked, “Are you going to tell her yourself if I do not?”

If Jonas Quinn was not responsible for his current situation, neither was Kate. Even if he had felt otherwise, John could never have brought himself to shame her in such a way.

“It is not my place,” he said carefully, “but you are a friend of the queen, Kate, and you know what secrets can do to her. You do not wish to hurt her that way. Believe me.”

Her expression turned sympathetic as they regarded each other. Then Kate nodded, and John heard footsteps. Lorne was swiftly catching up to them. “My lady, are you all right?” he said.

“Yes,” she replied, still looking at John. “I believe Sir John will be joining us.”

“He will?” Marcus said, surprised.

John raised a brow, and Kate mimicked the expression. “Yes,” he said slowly. “I believe I will.”

* * *

  
Elizabeth’s cold had improved greatly by morning, but she found herself with a little more free time than she expected after missing several meetings the previous day. Daniel’s warnings about protecting the queen’s health seemed to have created a rippling effect. No one in Atalan was willing to jeopardize the young sovereign’s health in any way, at least not until the line of succession was secured. Some urgent business of two days before had become rather less urgent overnight.

And that led Elizabeth to bully Laura into actually deciding on a pattern for her wedding dress after luncheon. In the back of her mind, Elizabeth had been hoping for another message from Athos in the morning. When none had come, she found herself beginning to imagine the worst outcomes. Whether Laura sensed this or simply lacked the will to continue to fight, she did not know, but Elizabeth used Laura’s indecisiveness to distract herself. She departed for an afternoon meeting with a collection of representatives from the northern territories with the satisfaction that the most difficult decision of the wedding plans was over.

Elizabeth spent her afternoon reviewing reports and security information for the northern borders of Atalan. In the back of her mind, she thought idly of wedding gowns and the invitation to Iolan, Laura and Carson’s courtship, and Daniel’s advice about Prince Radek.

The sun was fading when Laura entered and whispered that Kate and Lorne had returned, along with Sir John. Elizabeth felt her heart begin to speed up. She had not summoned John back to Atlantis in the past several weeks because she had been waiting for the tempest within the college to subside, and also because she knew her own temper had not yet settled. She had no wish to appear eager to see him, and she did not know if his presence was or could be welcomed. But something in Laura’s face alarmed her enough to hasten downstairs.

Fortunately, her eyes were drawn almost immediately away from John and to Kate, who was leaning on his arm and Lorne’s unsteadily. Her old friend was pale and looked worn out and ill. Alarm seized Elizabeth wholesale. If Kate had contracted the illness that had stricken the Athosians in such a short time...

Captain Lorne stepped forward before Elizabeth could speak. “Majesty, I apologize for not sending word earlier. Doctor Beckett remained in the village, to work with Charin and Mistress Perna to continue tending the sick.”

“Kate?” Elizabeth asked, reaching to take the woman’s arm.

She nodded wearily. “I am all right, my lady.”

“She fell into the ocean yesterday during our voyage,” Lorne contradicted with a sharp look. “The ferry was unstable and she lost her footing. She had a fever most of last night and Doctor Beckett was concerned that she could become more seriously ill so close to the villagers.”

Such a fall could well have drowned Kate, Elizabeth knew. The seas had been stormy and violent yesterday. Laura stood at Kate’s other side. Lorne reluctantly let go of Kate’s arm.

“Captain Lorne jumped in after me,” Kate said with a look at the captain.

Elizabeth called to a page standing in the hallway. “Have someone from the kitchens bring hot soup and tea to my chambers immediately.” She shot a sharp glance at Lorne. Up close she could see his own tiredness. “Captain, you should rest yourself. The guards are still set. You will go to your own chambers and I will have food brought to you. I do not expect to see you until morning.”

The three women were moving up the stairwell, Lorne following. He began to protest. “Majesty, my duty-”

“You can protect no one when dead on your feet and suffering from illness,” Elizabeth cut in, her voice brooking no disagreement.

He subsided reluctantly. Elizabeth allowed her concern for Kate to consume her mind, and willfully ignored the fact that John had not followed them, or spoken so much as a single word.

* * *

  
The following morning, Kate awoke slowly, her body still aching from everything that had happened. Thankfully the fever seemed to be gone. If she never found herself in open water again, she would not be displeased. The events that had followed that ferry ride had not been wholly unpleasant – no matter what happened between her and Marcus in the future, she doubted she would ever look back on that day without her blood heating – but it was good to be in her bed again, even if she was sharing it with Laura and Elizabeth.

They were not awake when she rose, not that she was surprised. Looking out the window she saw only bare hints of grey in the sky to the east, and it would probably be an hour before the sun was up and they started their day. She dressed herself anyway and slipped into the antechamber, hoping to read some before Elizabeth needed her.

Her mind kept drifting elsewhere as she sat by the fire. What Marcus had said that afternoon about the suitability of the match was true. Her mother especially would never approve of him. In a moment of deep unhappiness, she wondered if her parents would give their blessing only if Kate was found to be with child, and she knew enough of Marcus to know that he had made up his mind on that score and would not waver, as much as he wanted her.

The memory of his hands and his lips on her was still burned in her mind, but there was something more than the mere physical at play here. What she felt for Marcus... she was almost willing to call it love, and she hoped fervently that his feelings were the same.

Thus distracted, she had read only a few pages from her book when the door to the corridor creaked open. Kate jumped up, but there was no need. “Marcus?” she said when she saw the face of the intruder.

“Kate,” he said, once the door was closed.

“What are you doing here?”

He looked a little embarrassed. “I was hoping you were awake,” he replied. He looked at her critically. “Though I have a feeling you should not be.”

Normally she would have rolled her eyes at the mild reprimand, but he was probably right. Without thinking about it, she rubbed one hand up her arm.

He frowned, coming toward her. “Are you still cold?”

“It is not warm in here,” she said.

“But you’re so near the fire.”

The concern in his voice and his eyes made her heart speed up just a little, and she struggled to keep herself calm. “Why did you wish to see me?” she asked.

“When we spoke last you were still unwell.“ Marcus was not looking at her as he spoke. “I wanted to know, now that the fever has passed, that I did not offend you, and that, whatever other feelings we might have, my actions the other day have not damaged our friendship.”

“Truly, Marcus, I was not offended two days ago, nor am I offended now.“ As soon as she had spoken, relief washed over his face and he was able to meet her eyes again. “I am glad to know that I was not alone in trying to hide my feelings.”

He touched her cheek, and she turned her head to kiss his hand. “As am I.”

When he kissed her this time, she was expecting it, but this kiss was utterly unlike the handful they had shared before. At the tenderness in his touch she could not help a tiny whimper. She felt him smile at the sound, and he pulled her into his arms.

Neither of them noticed when the door to the bedroom opened, nor heard the queen’s soft gasp before she pulled the door shut again.

* * *

  
Carson set his bag down on his worktable and sighed. He had returned to Atlantis in the late afternoon, having spent a few days on the mainland. Though most of the villagers were recovering well, a few had been lost to the fever, including a man of scarcely five and forty years. He had jerked and ceased breathing the night before last. Teyla assured Carson that the man had long had spells of dizziness and fatigue that suggested perhaps his heart was weak, but that did not soothe the pain Carson felt.

At the least, none of the children had died. The littlest one, Mina, had shyly approached him last night and given him a large, red leaf that had obviously fallen from a tree. When he had thanked her, she had turned pink and then run back to Mistress Perna’s side, hiding her face in the woman’s skirts.

Carson turned from the memories to the pile of letters and work that had accumulated in his absence. He should have begun sorting through it, but he rubbed a hand against his face tiredly and sighed.

The door opened quietly and Laura slipped in. Carson remembered that the last words they had spoken to one another had been in this room and had been full of anger. He regretted his own sharpness, and he also wanted very much to avoid a conversation just now. He was too weary to be reasonable and calm.

Laura surprised him, though. She reached out a hand and tugged. “Come, sit by the fire.” Belatedly, he realized the fire had been kindled in his small parlor, adjacent to the workroom. Laura pushed him gently to sit in the comfortable chair. A moment later there was a rap on the outer door, and she went and returned with a tray bearing a bowl of stew and a mug of one of his own teas.

She set the tray down on a table next to him. When he looked at her, she shrugged. “I had a feeling you would not have been eating properly.”

He took the bowl and ate gratefully as Laura settled herself on the small footstool near him. She told him of the latest court gossip and what had happened with the queen during his absence. Carson found himself not so much listening to her words as to the soothing sound of her voice.

When he set the empty bowl aside, Laura took hold of his hand. She said nothing, merely looked at him, and Carson began to talk. He told her of the fever, of the weakness of the Hoffan refugees, of the man who had died, of the little ones who had fought bravely against the illness. Laura listened attentively, rubbing his arm comfortingly at times, but she asked no questions. She simply let him get his tale out and he felt his heart lightening as he shared it with her.

When he had finished, a silence fell between them. He smoothed a hand over her red hair, which appeared to glow in the firelight. “I am sorry for what I said before I left,” he told her.

Laura sighed. “As am I.” She looked at their clasped hands. “We will fight, Carson. It is not in my nature to back down easily. And our lives will always have their stresses. We will have to learn to compromise, both of us,” she said, looking at him somewhat sternly. “But I should not have mentioned breaking our engagement so callously.”

“You frightened me,” he admitted.

“I am sorry.” She looked up at him with a penitent face.

He leaned down and kissed her softly. “So am I. I promised to marry you, Laura, just as I promised to heal the sick and you promised to serve the queen. Neither of us makes such vows lightly. It will not be easy to find a balance among these things, but I believe we can if we make up our minds to do so.”

Finally, the familiar grin flashed across her face. “We are definitely stubborn enough,” she teased and he chuckled.

“Aye, that much is certain.”

* * *

  
She was loathe to admit it, but John’s return to Atlantis was more upsetting to Elizabeth than she’d imagined possible.

It had been weeks since she’d seen him, and Elizabeth thought that the time had soothed her temper, but it seemed to come and go. His return to court had made her feel very cross, and that had only made her angry with herself.

Caldoran or not, he had still saved her life. It was thanks to this John of Sheppard that she had lived to assume her throne.

They needed to talk, she knew, but in a fit of pique, she did not admit him for a private audience for a few days following his return, citing Kate’s illness and the press of court business as her excuses within her own mind. The atmosphere in the palace turned once more to tension and whispering, though Elizabeth wondered if she imagined it all.

John had been back in Atlantis for three days when he finally fell ill.

Carson was not overly surprised. Apparently John had been one of the few in the village who had not taken ill with the fever during the month he was there, and as such he had spent a great deal of his time caring for the sick. It had been a matter of time. For three days John lay ill in his chambers, Carson keeping watch even though the doctor was himself still fatigued from combating the illness on the mainland. Finally, Carson reported that the fever would soon break, and that John’s life was out of danger.

All through those days, a knot was forming in Elizabeth’s stomach. She was still angry with him – she had every right to be angry with him – but she was worried for him too. And either way, she needed to see him.

So when Carson finally retired to rest for a few hours, Elizabeth slipped down to John’s chambers. What she was about to do was not the most appropriate thing she had ever done, but the man _was_ ill, and they would not be interrupted this way. Captain Lorne gave her an odd look when he realized where they were going, but he dutifully stood outside the door and said nothing when she went in alone.

John was sleeping when she entered, but not well. He was shifting fitfully, and Elizabeth merely stood and watched for a few minutes, feeling terribly awkward. She had stood at the side of a sick man’s bed before, but something was different about it this time. She wanted to attribute it to the unresolved difficulties between them, but somehow that did not seem quite right.

Shaking herself out of her diffidence, she took a seat in the chair by the bed. John settled somewhat, and Elizabeth found herself struck by his appearance anew. His face looked more worn than she remembered, likely because of the illness. The fire cast his features in sharp relief, his face and neck even more sculptural than usual in the dancing light. After leaving Atlantis he had grown a beard, probably as a concession to the cold, and she was not sure how well she liked it. Her eyes traveled over his neck, down the length of a faint scar she had never noticed before, to where his tunic opened, revealing dark hair on his chest.

Biting her lip, Elizabeth had to look away.

He jerked awake then, and she almost jumped up from the chair. But before she could move, he saw her. As he cast his gaze around the room wildly, Elizabeth knew he was confused. “It is all right,” she said, trying to calm him. “Doctor Beckett believes the fever will break soon.”

John focused on her and frowned. “Where is he?”

“He was badly in need of rest himself,” Elizabeth explained. “I thought I might take advantage of his absence to speak with you.”

“And take advantage of my condition,” John said, looking up at the ceiling. “I suppose it was too much to hope you were here as a nursemaid.”

“In your experience, do women who are angry with you often play nursemaid for you?” she asked dryly.

He smiled weakly. “Sometimes.”

Elizabeth had to resist the very strong urge to roll her eyes.

There was an uncomfortable pause as he gazed at the fire, while she studied the pattern of the stone floor. “I hope you realize that I am not angry with you because of your identity,” she began.

He fixed her with a quizzical gaze. “Are you sure?”

Slowly, she nodded. “There was a moment when you first told me that old prejudices took hold, but that has not been the reason for my anger in a long time.”

“I didn’t lie to you,” John said, anticipating what she would say next. He looked a little like a puppy kicked by a harsh mistress.

“You spoke with the intention of concealing this from me,” Elizabeth pressed. “The college is questioning my judgment at every turn now, since my first act as queen was to knight a Caldoran.”

“I couldn’t very well tell you then, could I?” John asked. Before she could answer, he started coughing viciously.

Alarmed, Elizabeth rose from her chair and poured water from a pitcher into a mug. “Here,” she said, sitting on the edge of the bed as the coughing fit subsided. “Drink this.”

He pushed himself up on his elbows and let her hold the mug to his lips, shooting her a grateful glance. When he had finished gulping water down like he had not had a drink in weeks, he made no remarks about her tending to him. She stubbornly beat back the twinge of irritation at the thought that her visiting him to have a serious discussion had so quickly turned into her taking care of him.

She held the mug in both hands and looked at him expectantly. “I had no opportunity to tell you when you knighted me, my lady,” he clarified.

“And before then?” Elizabeth pressed. “We spoke on several occasions in those days before the coronation, yet you said nothing. You even knew that I was considering reopening ties with Caldora.”

“Your Majesty,” he said, shaking his head, “it is not so simple as that.”

It was a phrase she had heard many times in her young life, and Elizabeth pushed down the flare of indignation it sparked. To her it had always seemed like that phrase was meant to imply that she had not the understanding to grasp the complexities of a situation. “I spoke with Jonas Quinn a few weeks ago,” she said, her words careful and slow. “He told me you are the son of a marquis, and that you left Caldora in disgrace. But he did not know more.”

John sighed and settled down into the pillows a little more. “He is not wrong.”

Elizabeth rubbed her head with one hand. “Then it is true? I have knighted Caldoran nobility, and without the consent of your king?”

“I have no king.” The harsh statement startled her slightly.

She stared at him silently until he looked back at her. “Then what would you not tell me before?”

John looked very uncomfortable, but Elizabeth was not leaving the room until she had answers. “I was not lying when I said I was from a family of shepherds,” he replied. “My father is the Marquis of Sheppard. Most of Caldora’s wool is sheared and spun and woven in that province. I spent most of my childhood out with my brothers and the shepherds with the flocks.”

“If your father is a marquis,” she asked, “then why are you here?”

“I became my father’s heir,” John continued. “His only remaining child. I... did not take well to the expectations of that role.”

“Somehow I am unsurprised,” Elizabeth remarked tartly.

He gave her an annoyed glance. “About three years ago I was in the king’s palace when I heard screaming,” he said. “I discovered a woman being beaten by her husband. In the process of protecting her, I accidentally killed him.”

Elizabeth froze, trying to keep her temper at bay. She knew that there were men in the world – in her own country – who would beat their wives into submission. All her life she had been surrounded by men who showed the utmost respect to the women around them, and so she had come to the conclusion that it took cowardice, not strength, to beat a woman. She could not feel sorry for the man John had killed, but her mind was racing to discover why he seemed to have been punished for his actions. “He was a man of power, wasn’t he?” she guessed.

John nodded. “Of great wealth and power,” he replied, “and though King Henry had no love for the man, his allies were calling for blood. So the king exiled me instead.”

“He showed you no justice,” she protested angrily.

“My lady, I think you may find that justice and politics but rarely coincide.”

She frowned, unhappy and somewhat alarmed. “Is that what you think of me, and of my treatment of you?”

He shook his head. “No, my lady. You were angry with me, but you did not punish me in your anger. That shows great restraint when I had deceived you.”

She couldn’t help herself. She actually smiled and said, “I thought you did not lie.”

“I did not lie,” he repeated. She could not mistake the regret and sorrow in his eyes. “But I deceived you all the same.”

Elizabeth stood, sensing he was tiring and that she needed to leave. On impulse, she brushed some of his hair away from his forehead, and she felt the first drops of sweat against her fingertips. The fever was breaking. “The doctor thinks you will be over this fever in a day or two,” she said softly as he stared up at her. “When you are well again, you will resume your duties in the court. If you have any other secret like this, you will tell me. And perhaps we will be friends again.”

They held each other’s eyes for a long moment before she turned to go. When she reached the door, he said, “Your Majesty.”

She looked at him across the room. “Yes?”

“Thank you.”

She did not know why he was thanking her, but she gave him a small smile and a nod. When she slipped away, she was feeling much better than when she had come, as though this conversation had put to rest all her inward distress and given her the peace of mind to deal with any difficulty. Even the college of lords at its worst.


End file.
